


A Fire Burning In The Temple Of Our Peace

by OwenToDawn



Series: Building Up Slowly [1]
Category: Block B, FANXY CHILD (Band)
Genre: Caretaking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:48:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22286629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwenToDawn/pseuds/OwenToDawn
Summary: “I figured we were more…colleagues? Who were friendly,” Jiho says. “That’s how it is with most people anyways.”Most people. Not Minho probably. Definitely not Kyung or Dongwook. But most people.“Well put me down as not most people,” Hyoseob says.
Relationships: Shin Hyoseob | Crush/Woo Jiho | Zico
Series: Building Up Slowly [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1620346
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	A Fire Burning In The Temple Of Our Peace

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if I'm happy with this cuz I wrote it in a different way than normal - almost all the scenes were written out of order oops. But I think it worked out mostly okay. Hopefully it's enjoyable! I tried to follow the timeline as much as possible but I might be off still so sorry about that
> 
> Title from Soon Love Soon by Vienna Teng
> 
> Comments are loved

Hyoseob accepted his informal role as Jiho’s Handler with little resistance. He likes taking care of his friends, but he notices pretty quickly, Jiho only ever listens to him when it comes to general advice about going to sleep and remembering to eat. At first, he thinks it’s his age.

“Nah,” Hyuk had said shortly after they met. “He doesn’t listen to anyone else about that shit. I guess you’re just special.”

“What’s special about me?”

Hyuk just laughed at him.

In all honesty, he still doesn’t know why Hyuk had laughed at him then, but he takes his unofficial role seriously. For some reason, Jiho trusts his judgment. It isn’t too hard to figure out what buttons to press with Jiho, so that takes some of the pressure off, but he still feels responsible.

Praise seems to be the biggest motivator. He first notices it when he’s helping Jiho record his first verse on their still unnamed collaboration with Hyuk. After listening to the replay, he hits the speaker button for the mic.

“That one’s clean, it should work,” he says. “Good job, Jiho.”

And he watches as all the tension from the last two hours bleeds out of Jiho’s face and his shoulders slump down as he smiles.

“Really?” Jiho asks.

Hyoseob laughs. “Yeah, really.”

-.-

After the first time, it’s easy to see. They go over Bermuda Triangle a thousand times during the music video shoot and every time, Jiho looks to him afterwards for feedback. It isn’t until Hyoseob offers a ‘good job’ or a nod of approval that he relaxes and turns back to his work. Something about it bothers him.

Because the thing is, Jiho _is_ good – at a lot of things. There’s no reason for him to act like a puppy starved for attention the second Hyoseob gives him a passing compliment. After the shoot, he brings it up with Hyuk over beers at a dive bar, one of the ones that no one who cares enough about pop culture enough to recognize them ends up at. Hyuk mulls over his concern as he rubs a fingernail over some graffiti on the wood table.

“It’s sort of a given, right? That he’s talented. Why compliment him on something he should obviously know?” Hyuk shrugs. “He makes everything seem effortless.”

“But it’s not,” Hyoseob says with a frown.

“Of course we know that,” Hyuk says. “But he’s the leader of an idol group. I doubt he hears a compliment that often in a position where he’s supposed to be the one encouraging everyone else, you know?”

Which somehow makes everything more depressing. A thousand screaming fans didn’t make up for the people you value the most not acknowledging your hard work and effort. So in his head, Hyoseob adds Jiho’s Fan to his list of job duties.

-.-

The 2016 MAMAs are stressful. Jiho is keyed up to begin with given that it’s their first real move as a group, plus Hyoseob’s phone is full of pissed off messages about YG denying Minho’s request to perform Okey Dokey again. Hyoseob hates it because it ruins the time Jiho and Minho get to celebrate each other’s accomplishments in a public space.

Angry texts or not, Jiho remains a complete professional throughout rehearsal and mic check and it’s only because Hyoseob pays too much attention that he’s able to notice the tension in Jiho’s jaw. Jiho catches him looking after their last check and his expression pinches up. Then he jerks his chin up and to the side towards the hall with the bathrooms as he turns off his mic and hands it off to one of the techs. Hyoseob offers an excuse about water and passes his mic to Hyuk. Hyuk just rolls his eyes and gives a dismissive wave as Hyoseob follows after Jiho.

He’s not sure what he’s expecting when he opens the bathroom door, but it’s certainly not Jiho immediately dipping into a ninety degree bow as soon as he walks in

“I need to apologize,” Jiho says, still bowing. “I’ve been unprofessional the last few days. I’m sorry.”

It’s apparent that something important is happening, though Hyoseob isn’t sure exactly _what_. He has a feeling whatever he says, however he responds, is going to impact their friendship and professional relationship moving forward though.

“Jiho….we’re friends, right?” he asks.

Jiho straightens and looks at him, a look of uncertainty on his face. “I…”

Hyoseob steps closer, reaching up to place both hands on Jiho’s shoulders and meeting his gaze even if it’s hard to see the worry there. “Jiho. We are friends. Don’t apologize for treating me like one.”

For a long moment, Jiho stares back at him, uncomprehending. Then, his shoulders relax. A smile, shy, teases at the edge of his lips. “Thank you.”

Hyoseob lets go, arms dropping to his side. “Did you really think we weren’t?”

“I figured we were more…colleagues? Who were friendly,” Jiho says. “That’s how it is with most people anyways.”

Most people. Not Minho probably. Definitely not Kyung or Dongwook. But most people.

“Well put me down as not most people,” Hyoseob says. “You’re a good guy. I’d like to be your friend, not your friendly colleague.”

"Okay. I’d like that,” Jiho says, and this time, he gives a proper smile.

Hyoseob tries not to think too hard about how his heart beats just a little bit faster.

-.-

And they do become friends. Jiho makes more than one joke about how Hyoseob checks up on him so often, he might as well be his girlfriend, but he never asks him to stop. They spend most of 2017 preparing their own releases, formalizing the existence of Fanxy Child, and finding spare moments to work on collaborations together. He becomes very comfortable with Jiho’s studio space especially as Jiho begins to work on his new album.

Hyuk and Dongwook drift in and out of the space throughout March, but he’s easily the one who spends the most time there. It’s easy to work on his own lyrics to the lull of Jiho at work. He can hear Jiho move around through his headphones, but his own music is too loud for him to make out the sound of whatever else he’s doing. It’s just comforting to be in his presence. For years, he did so much of his initial work on his own that it’s nice to have actual friends who do the same thing as him. There’s no need to entertain one another. They both respect that they’re in a creative space.

Jiho spins abruptly in his chair, gaze intent on his phone as he gets to his feet and heads out of the studio phone held up to his ear. Hyoseob’s gaze catches sight of his journal sitting precariously on the edge of the desk and he watches as the chair continues to spin, glancing off the corner of the journal and sending it falling to the ground with a loud smack, pages down. He shuts his laptop and pulls himself off the couch to pick it up. He has every intention of setting it aside back in its place.

Lyrics are private. He’s got journals full of things that will never see the light of day because they’re just too personal, and just because they’re friends doesn’t mean he has permission to see things Jiho doesn’t want people to. But out of the corner of his eye, he catches something he can’t ignore.

_Someone should claw all that make up off so we can see what the ugly fuck looks like under it_

And under that another line, and another, all worse than the last, and it hits him that he’s looking at hate comments that Jiho has for some reason written out. His stomach rolls and he closes the journal before setting it on the desk. The door opens and he turns to see Jiho step back inside. For a moment, he considers just sitting back down and pretending he didn’t see anything, but there’s something in him that doesn’t let him do that.

Maybe it’s because he knows better than anyone the way the words bite at Jiho and keep him up late. He wakes up most mornings with his phone full of messages of Jiho’s rambling thoughts as he evades sleep until the late dawn hours, prattle that Jiho insists he never expects a response to. But he always reads every message. He responds too.

“Look, I didn’t mean to see it, it just fell and I picked it up,” Hyoseob says, keeping his voice steady as Jiho’s expression shutters. “But can you tell me why you have hate comments written down in your lyric book?”

“It’s just something I’m trying to work on,” Jiho says, pushing past him and snatching the lyric book off the desk and opening up one of the drawers to shove it inside as if that will erase what Hyoseob saw. “It’s not…it’s…okay so part of it is me obsessing over it, but I’m trying to do it in a good way.”

“I’m not trying to attack you,” Hyoseob says. “Or tell you to stop. I just want to understand, that’s all.”

Jiho stares down at his desk, fingers tapping out an inconsistent rhythm on the glass before he sits back down in the chair with a huff. “It’s not all bullshit, what people say about me.”

Hyoseob bites back his immediate reaction to protest because he knows enough by now that this isn’t something he can praise Jiho out of. So instead, he sits on the desk and folds his hands together over his stomach. “What do you mean?”

“I mean not every criticism is wrong,” Jiho says. “I sold myself out to make sure I could debut and I got more and more control over the music we made as the years went by, sure, but I had to give that up to get my foot in the door. And I’ve said some really dumb shit too. People aren’t wrong to call me out on that shit.”

“That’s not all I saw in that journal,” Hyoseob says.

“Some of it is bullshit,” Jiho says. “But that’s what I’m doing. I’m sorting out what’s bullshit and what’s real and I want to make it into something cool.”

That’s comforting to hear, but it doesn’t totally assuage his worry and fear that Jiho will spend too much time dwelling on what’s been said.

“Can you promise me something?”

Jiho frowns. “What?”

Jiho is the leader of Block B, and the leader of Fanxy Child in many ways, and Hyoseob has no issue following him in that respect. But with things like this, with their personal lives, it feels more natural to be the reverse. Maybe it’s because Jiho needs a break. He doesn’t really know. What he does know is that when Jiho is stressed out and Hyoseob orders him to do something, he usually does it. So hopefully, he’ll keep his promise.

"If it gets to you, tell me,” Hyoseob says. “Because you’re great, Jiho, at music, at lyrics, at producing, and you’re smart too. You’ve known what you’ve wanted this whole time and you’ve never stopped working towards it and that’s not something anyone should be able to make you feel bad about.”

“Hyung…okay. I will.” Jiho looks down at his own hands, the faintest of smiles at the corner of his lips. “Thank you.”

"Any time,” Hyoseob says.

-.-

_Hyuk: Please save me (11:53 PM)_

_Hyoseob: What’s up? (11:53 PM)_

_Hyuk: Jiho won’t leave (11:54 PM)_

_We finished the track for our team (11:54 PM)_

_But now he wants to work on his album and he won’t listen to me (11:55 PM)_

_We have an early shoot for SMTM tomorrow (11:55 PM)_

_Hyoseob: Go home. I’ll head over (11:56 PM)_

Which is how Hyoseob finds himself in Jiho’s studio, quietly picking up the takeout cartons as Jiho snores, face pressed into his keyboard as he drools. It must be really bad if he’s actually falling asleep instead of working. He expected to find Jiho up and working like he normally was. For a moment, he debates just leaving because there’s a chance if he wakes him up, Jiho will just try to work again. But then, he’s always been good at convincing Jiho to do things.

“Jiho, wake up,” he says, squeezing the back of Jiho’s neck.

Jiho groans, face pinching up, and Hyoseob sort of hates the way his stomach goes tight at how cute he finds it. It’s not really bros to feel like that.

“Come on, you can’t sleep like this,” Hyoseob says. “At least go to your couch.”

“What’re you doing here, hyung?” Jiho asks, words slurred together with sleepiness as he opens his eyes and sits up.

Hyoseob has to stop himself from reaching out and petting his mussed hair. His resolve doesn’t last long and he finds himself smoothing out Jiho’s hair with a gentle hand, breath catching when Jiho leans into it, chair spinning slowly so that they’re facing each other. Jiho’s eyes flutter closed and he leans forward, forehead pressing into Hyoseob’s stomach.

“Feels nice,” he says.

Hyoseob can’t help but laugh at that and keeps running his fingers through his hair, as soft as he can. “Hyuk said you were still working. I came to ask you to go to bed.”

“Keep doing that and I’ll fall asleep again,” Jiho says, his breath and voice tickling Hyoseob through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“It’ll be your reward for sleeping,” Hyoseob says.

“Am I gonna sleep like this?” Jiho asks with a quiet laugh of his own.

“Go lay down,” Hyoseob says, stepping back.

Jiho does, shuffling his way across the small space and all but throwing himself onto the couch. Hyoseob follows, dragging the small blanket off the back to cover Jiho before sitting on the arm of the couch and reaching down to start running his fingers through Jiho’s hair again.

“You know, it’d be better if you slept in your actual bed at home,” Hyoseob says.

"I’ve got my alarm set so I can shower and stuff still,” Jiho says, pulling the blanket up to his ears. “This is….really nice. My mom used to do it for me when I couldn’t sleep.”

“What, couldn’t sleep when you were a kid either?” Hyoseob asks.

Jiho hums out a noise of assent and Hyoseob closes his own eyes against the way his chest tightens again in response.

“Always thought too much. Still think too much,” Jiho says, words starting to slur together again.

Hyoseob doesn’t respond. He doesn’t want to keep Jiho up any later than he has to. He scratches his fingers through Jiho’s hair over and over, roaming over his whole head so he doesn’t rub any spot for too long. Jiho’s breathing slows, deepens. Hyoseob watches as his jaw drops open, lower lip dropping into its perpetual pout, and considers the fact that he has a strange desire to press his lips to it, suck at it and make Jiho moan.

Apparently, somewhere in the last year the line between friendship and something more got blurred. He thinks maybe he should be panicked by this. He’s never liked a man before, not like this, but in a way it feels like just a natural progression of everything they do for each other. If he were to fall in love with a man, it’d make sense it’d be someone he meshed with so well creatively.

“Ah, Jiho. What am I going to do about you?” Hyoseob asks to the silent room.

Jiho snuffles in his sleep, half a snore escaping him. Hyoseob turns the light off on his way out.

-.-

And that’s how it is for a while. Hyuk messages him when Jiho is stubborn, and he somehow always coaxes Jiho to go to sleep with a kind word and promise of a reward. Sometimes it’s coffee, or a cheat pastry that he sneaks to him before he leaves for filming, and other times it’s sitting in front of the studio couch and petting Jiho’s hair as he drifts to sleep. The pressure of the show and his own solo work and Block B’s music is too much. It makes Hyoseob want to spirit him away somewhere to rest.

But idols don’t rest. He and Hyuk and Seunghyun are all busy, sure, but it’s not the same as being an idol, even if Jiho breaks the rules more often than most.

The days pass and he waits for the realization of his newfound feelings to make him panic, but every time he checks in with himself he feels fine. The world keeps spinning. His interviews, his producing, his meetings with his band keep happening. His quiet visits to Jiho’s studio continue. His heart beats a little faster when Jiho smiles and it feels nice. It’s not overwhelming the way crushes are, where his thoughts race, pre-occupied nearly every moment with thoughts about the object of his affection. It’s just comforting background noise.

He’s in love with Jiho.

-.-

_Jiho: Hyung it’s done (4:02 AM)_

_The song you were worried about (4:02 AM)_

_Come listen when you wake up (4:02 AM)_

And because he’s whipped, Hyoseob does. He enters the studio armed with coffees and protein bars to find Jiho sleeping on the couch with a jacket Hyoseob hadn’t realized he’d left behind draped over him. He wakes up as Hyoseob sets the coffees down on the desk.

“What time is it?” he asks, voice a sleepy mumble as he sits up and stretches. His beanie slips off his head, revealing messy hair that sticks up every which way.

“9:30, roughly,” Hyoseob says. “Let’s hear it, come on.”

Jiho pulls himself out of the couch and shuffles his way over to the chair, flopping into it and then grabbing at Hyoseob’s waist and pulling him into his lap. “I’m cold now.”

“I’m not a blanket,” Hyoseob says, but he likes the way it feels to have Jiho’s arm around his waist so he grabs his coffee and sips at it as Jiho wakes his computer up with his free hand.

“My singing isn’t great, but I think I’m going to have someone feature on this for the chorus anyways,” Jiho says.

“Just play it,” Hyoseob says, nudging his chest.

Jiho pulls up the track and clicks play. Hyoseob lets the deep beat wash over him, a slow and haunting click punctuated with synths as Jiho’s rap rides along the top, angry and frustrated and like nothing that he would ever say. They aren’t his words, but the words of the people who hate him. His flow is different too, sneering and cruel in its delivery. It’s the self-confidence that every rapper wears on a track or at a show, but twisted into something poisonous instead. It makes him feel anxious.

“This is perfect,” he says as the organ pipes began to play.

“Wait,” Jiho says.

The beat cuts and suddenly the persona is back, the mocking and lilting cruelty giving way to unbridled aggression and hatred in a way that makes him want to pull Jiho close. Sure, they’re performers, but how he managed to stand in front of a mic alone in his studio and say those things about himself without letting it hurt him, Hyoseob doesn’t know. Maybe it did hurt him. He sneaks a glance at Jiho out of the corner of his eye, but he’s looking down at his coffee cup and fiddling with the lid.

When the song finally drifts off, they both sit in silence. Hyoseob doesn’t speak, wanting to process it and collect his thoughts as he thinks over the last part. It’s a lot. Dark, and treading the line of not acceptable for commercial consumption, but that’s a line Jiho’s always managed to walk.

“So these…these are the comments you believe are bullshit, right?” Hyoseob asks.

Jiho hooks his chin over Hyoseob’s shoulder, breath tickling his ear. “Mostly. I wanted to write it like I was my younger self, the one where I hated idols.”

Hyoseob nods and drops his hand to cover Jiho’s over his stomach. “It’s really well done, Jiho, I haven’t heard something quite like it in the mainstream, not like this. Hating idols is easy. Self-reflection isn’t.”

Jiho makes a flustered noise as he shoves his face against Hyoseob’s neck. “That’s very nice of you to say.”

His voice sounds uncertain in the way that makes Hyoseob’s chest go tight with sadness. He sighs and pulls himself out of Jiho’s lap. He grabs the spare chair and drags it over so he can sit in front of Jiho and look him in the eye.

"I’m not just flattering you,” he says, leaning forward on his knees. “Every time I compliment you, it’s because I mean it, not because I want to make you feel good. That just happens to be an added bonus. This song is dope as fuck. Watching you perfect your craft and experiment in ways people in your position are scared to do is one of the coolest things about being your friend. So trust me. This is great.”

Jiho inhales and then coughs, the shaky sound that Hyoseob’s learned comes when Jiho’s trying not to cry. Hyoseob hesitates before standing and opening his arms. Jiho leans forward and wraps his arms around Hyoseob’s waist like before as he rests his head against his abdomen. What’s different from last time is the way Jiho’s shoulders shake.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to make you cry,” Hyoseob says with a half-finished laugh.

“I’m not sad, so it’s fine,” Jiho says, voice watery. “Recording this was hard. In…a lot of ways. Helps to know or I guess hear that I’m not what I just recorded.”

Hyoseob runs his fingers through Jiho’s hair with one hand and then reaches down with his other to squeeze his neck too. Jiho deflates into him further.

“You did good,” Hyoseob says. “You can rest now.”

“Maybe just for a bit,” Jiho says. “Thank you…”

-.-

_Hyuk: Seob hyung (2:30 AM)_

_Seob hyungggggggg (2:35 AM)_

_Seob (2:36 AM)_

_Hyoseob-sii (2:37 AM)_

_Jiho is still awake (2:40 AM)_

_Hyoseob: Okay. I’ll call him (2:41 AM)_

_Hyuk: Of course you will lol (2:42 AM)_

Hyoseob closes out of the chat and sits up, rubbing his eyes as he thumbs his way over to his and Jiho’s chat before clicking his contact and hitting call. It rings. And rings. And-

“Hyungie! Perfect timing. I have this new-“

“Jiho,” Hyoseob cuts in. “Stop calling Hyuk. He’s trying to sleep.”

The crackle of the speaker as the line goes silent is a little heartbreaking. Hyoseob sighs and flops back.

“You need to sleep too. It’s almost been twenty-four hours since you woke up,” Hyoseob says.

Jiho laughs, and at least he sounds a little bit sheepish. “You got my scheduled memorized?”

“Yours, Hyuk’s, Dongwookie’s….Seunghyun is more of an adult though, he can take care of himself,” Hyoseob says.

“And I can’t?”

“Jiho, you need to sleep.”

Jiho goes quiet and Hyoseob wishes he were there to hug him. “I can’t.”

"I know. But you need to. For me, please?”

He can hear Jiho drumming a pen against his desk in the background and the anxiety in his shaky inhale. Seconds tick their way to a minute.

“I keep reading what people are saying about me on this season of SMTM,” Jiho says.

Hyoseob figured as much, but it still makes his chest ache to hear Jiho admit it. “Jiho….”

“I know I shouldn’t,” Jiho says. “But it’s hard not to right now so I’m making music instead and I really don’t think sleeping is an option right now.”

He says all the words in a rush, like if he doesn’t say them they’ll somehow vanish and he’ll never get it off his chest. Hyoseob doesn’t mind. He’s used to the way Jiho reveals his thoughts in spurts and bursts.

“Go lay on the couch,” Hyoseob says. “Switch to video call.”

He listens to the rustle of fabric and groan of the studio chair as Jiho obeys.

His phone chimes with the video call notification. He clicks accept and is greeted with Jiho’s face, pale, a little thin, and dark circles under his eyes. Not for the first time, he wishes he could drag Jiho to bed to force him to sleep, but he’s not sure that’s even possible at this point. So he’ll have to settle with whatever he can do like this.

“Hyung, you look tired,” Jiho says.

“I am. I traveled all day, but I have most of my tomorrow free,” Hyoseob says. “Tell me about your day. I want to hear.”

He’s not lying. He likes knowing about all his friends’ days, it’s just usually he prefers to talk to them during the day not when he’s trying to sleep. But he knows Jiho gets sleepy talking about things that aren’t music. So he listens to Jiho ramble, listens to the details of an interview and then a discussion with his legal team about finalizing logo designs, listens as his words begin to slur with sleep. He smiles when he sees Jiho’s eyes slip shut. Jiho’s sentence drifts off in the middle. He takes a breath and his eyes flutter back open.

"What’s my reward this time?” he asks.

Hyoseob laughs, affection for Jiho’s sleepy childishness making his chest warm. “Coffee?”

“Mmm…want something different,” Jiho says as his eyes slip close again.

“Yeah? Like what?” Hyoseob asks.

Jiho’s breath begins to deepen and Hyoseob smiles. And then…

“A kiss…”

Hyoseob freezes, suddenly very much awake, but Jiho’s already drifted off completely by the time he feels like he can breathe again.

-.-

Dean and Zico’s team wins SMTM 6, Zico’s new album with the official Fanxy Child track drops, and they still haven’t talked about Jiho’s request for a kiss.

This thought, unlike the realization that he was in love, does not hover as innocent background noise and instead clamors like an alarm bell any time Jiho looks at him, which thanks to promotions, is often. To make matters worse, it feels like for the first time he can’t get a read on him. He stops texting Hyoseob at night like usual, but in person everything seems to be the same on the surface.

He was fine with never confessing how he felt about Jiho. He had no issue letting it lie in his chest until it one day faded, but now the possibility that it could be reciprocated combined with Jiho’s partial cold shoulder leaves him feeling unmoored. It’s not something he feels often. It’s one of the reasons people liked being around him. They always said he was steady and unflappable in the face of conflict, and yet now he finds himself paralyzed and unsure of what to do next or how to even start the conversation.

It isn’t until his manager texts him that he’ll be going on Yu Huiyeol’s Sketchbook with Dongwook and Jiho that he’s finally startled into action.

It’s not even really for himself or Jiho, but Dongwook. Out of all of them, he’s the most sensitive, picking up on small social cues even Jiho misses. Getting on stage with things unresolved would throw Dongwook off, which is the last thing he needs when he’s still new to how the industry works. His conclusion must seem obvious to Jiho too. He doesn’t blow him off like he has been when Hyoseob asks if he can stop by his studio. If there’s one thing he can always count on Jiho to do, it’s protect Dongwook or Minho even at the expense of his own discomfort.

Still, Hyoseob finds himself hesitating at the studio door. He rests his forehead against the door, hand on the door handle as he takes deep breath after deep breath. It doesn’t help. Getting on stage the first time was easier than this. Being scared isn’t something he’s used to. Coupled with the fact that he could very well be ending the best friendship he’s ever had…he’s amazed he’s still breathing.

He turns the door handle and pushes his way inside.

It’s almost exactly like it normally is; the smell of take-out, the click of keyboard keys and the faint sound of a backtrack on half of Jiho’s ears. For a moment, Hyoseob drinks it in. The sensations feel like home because they’re Jiho. He could write a thousand ballads about how such simple things make him feel like he can finally relax and be himself.

“I love you.”

He blurts the words out without meaning to and he releases the door in shock. It clicks shut as Jiho’s back stiffens. He watches as Jiho tugs his headphones off and sets them on top of the keyboard. His heart races its way up to his throat. The seconds tick by and still Jiho doesn’t move, doesn’t say a word. For a moment, part of him wants to take it all back and just hope they could figure out how to act normal again without ever discussing it, but that kind of wishful thinking is useless.

Because Jiho knows now. He can try and play it off as a joke, but he knows the sincerity in his voice had been too strong.

“Do you know how hard I worked on what I was going to say?” Jiho asks, still facing away from him. “I had a whole speech. And then you just barge in here and blurt everything out.”

"What?” Hyoseob barely gets the word out, chest and throat tight as Jiho spins around and stands up.

He’s smiling though, wide and bright, the smile that makes Hyoseob’s heart pound every time it’s turned in his direction. “I was going to tell you about how and when I fell in love with you and how safe and loved you always make me feel. It was super romantic and everything.”

Hyoseob inhales, sharp, as Jiho stops a few inches from him. He doesn’t usually feel that short around Jiho. Being crowded against the door, feeling the heat of Jiho so close but not close enough, makes him feel small in a way that’s entirely unfamiliar. It’s not scary though, not even when Jiho rests a hand against his cheek.

“You alright there?” Jiho asks.

“Um…yeah,” Hyoseob says. “Just shocked.”

“I mean, I _did_ say I wanted to kiss you,” Jiho says.

“I didn’t know if you meant it,” Hyoseob says, hands coming up to rest on Jiho’s hips as Jiho leans down to press their foreheads together.

“Well, Hyoseob,” Jiho says, letting silence fill the space where the honorific should be. Hyoseob swallows hard. “I’d like to kiss you.”

“Yeah okay,” Hyoseob says.

The words are only out for half a second before Jiho presses their lips together. For a brief moment, it’s just a dry press. Then Jiho kisses him again, takes Hyoseob’s lower lip between his own lips and touching his tongue against it, a brief tease that makes Hyoseob gasp. From there, it’s easier. Jiho presses in close and Hyoseob cups the back of his neck as he slides his tongue against Jiho’s and lets the kiss grow deeper and wetter.

Breathing becomes a problem, neither of them particularly invested in separating long enough to catch their breath. It’s far from graceful, but that doesn’t bother him. That’s not what it’s about. It’s about how his pulse races and his brain fizzes from the elation of having this, of having Jiho. Of being loved. Of loving. He never wants to stop.

Jiho pulls away but only so he can duck his head down and press kisses along his neck instead. It’s heady, not being the one in control. The difference between their usual interactions and the way Jiho casually tilts Hyoseob’s chin up so he has better access to his mouth has his dick twitching in his pants. It does more than that when Jiho slides his thigh between his legs.

“Okay hold on,” he says, pushing Jiho back. That lasts for about a moment before he’s leaning back forward himself and kissing him again.

Jiho laughs into the kiss, the laugh turning to a soft moan when Hyoseob sucks at his lower lip again before he regains control of himself and then pulls away again. “I’m getting mixed signals here.”

"Yeah, sorry,” Hyoseob says. “But I don’t want to rush this.”

“That’s….that’s fair,” Jiho says. His leg shifts down and away and it takes everything in him for Hyoseob not to lean into him again to get it back. “You want to be wooed?”

Hyoseob rolls his eyes. “I mean I’ve done most of the wooing so far, haven’t I?”

Jiho reaches back out to cup his cheek, thumb rubbing along his cheekbone first before dropping down to caress his kiss swollen lips. Hyoseob sucks at it instinctively and watches Jiho’s gaze darken.

"If you want me to romance you, I can do that,” Jiho says. “But I’m gonna need you to stop that.”

Hyoseob grabs Jiho’s wrist and moves to put more of his fingers in his mouth just to spite him but Jiho just laughs and pulls away completely.

“So we’re good then?” Jiho asks. “Boyfriends?”

“Boyfriends works,” Hyoseob says with a smile as the warm feeling that’s always sat in his chest in Jiho’s presence fills him up more than it ever has before.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at the same name if you want


End file.
